


Story

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Picard reads to Elnor.
Relationships: Elnor & Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Story

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Warning for minor spoilers for S1.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The details of the simulation are astounding, far more advanced than even the state-of-the-art holosuites aboard the Enterprise ever were. He can feel the scratch of the cushions’ rough texture pillowing his back, and the open windows seem to let in both the sun’s warmth and a light breeze. Everything in his study aboard _La Sirena_ is hyper-realistic, and even that can’t _quite_ compete with the book in his hands. There never has and never will be a replacement for genuine, old-fashioned paper. 

_The Count of Monte Cristo_ is an enormous volume. It feels heavier in his hands than it used to—than the last time he read it out to Elnor, though back then he never got past the first few chapters—young Edmond Dantès life was nothing but perfect to an even younger Elnor. Sometimes Jean-Luc even looks back and imagines it’s better that way—there was never any reason to mire a child in death and revenge. It surprised him to hear that Elnor kept all those tragic, epic books around for so many years. 

The copy Jean-Luc now flips through isn’t a replicated version, but the very same one Elnor kept under his bed for the better part of two decades. Perhaps he’s read it a hundred times or perhaps never at all—candor flew out the window when he put it back in Jean-Luc’s hands. He asked Jean-Luc to finish what he started, and Jean-Luc had chuckled, because so many years have passed. For all the crew’s teasing, Elnor is hardly a child any longer. The determination glinting in his eyes was that of a warrior, but something in his handsome face always speaks of innocence. When Elnor insisted, Jean-Luc was powerless to refuse.

He’s glad he didn’t. He hasn’t read the story himself in some time, but it all comes rolling back to him as his fingers trace the fading ink. He chants the narrative with reverence, breathes life into the dialogue, even finds himself adopting voices to the characters as though enacting his own play. Elnor is much too old for all of those theatrics, but Elnor makes no protest. He’s an excellent listener, more so now that he’s learned some patience and knows more of Federation Standard. He sits quietly beside Jean-Luc on the couch, absorbing every word. 

When the suspense heightens, Elnor’s breath holds. When tension’s released, Elnor sighs. Whenever Jean-Luc glances sideways, Elnor’s expression is rapt, though increasingly tired, because they’ve gone through seven chapters in one sitting and it’s long past the ship’s simulated night. Jean-Luc reads on anyway, because this one little moment, this quiet connection, is exactly what he wanted to live for. He’s grateful for the new time given to him, even if it’s still in the aged body of a slowly-dying man, because these small experiences are _everything_. As he turns the page to another chapter, a memory flickers across his consciousness—hearing the exact same story read to him when he was young, drawled out in the original French, and the fact that it’s all come full circle isn’t lost on him. He can see the image of his vineyard out the vintage windows and knows just how lucky he is. 

A soft weight falls onto his shoulder—nothing his new-old body can’t handle. He glances sideways to find a hardened Romulan warrior slumped against his side, soundly asleep. Elnor’s trim figure moves with the shallow, measured breath of a light snooze. The vulnerability and trust in that is powerful. Jean-Luc’s fingers hesitate, poised on the corner of the page. 

He closes the book but doesn’t dare reach to set it on the coffee table. Instead, he leaves it in his lap and reclines into the cushions, content to enjoy his life until Elnor stirs and asks him to begin again.


End file.
